The Bowl
by Tianessa
Summary: It is Harry's last year at Hogwarts, and he discovers a new weapon that will delinguish Voldemort forever. Trouble is, he doesn't know how to use it...HBP spoilers, please, this is my first fanfiction, and I'd like people to read it.
1. Chapter 1

It was a dusk night, and not a soul dared venture into the streets after dark. That summer, the unthinkable had happened, and now frantic woman waited at the bus stop for their children every day after school and ushered them home quickly, glancing now and then over their shoulder to make sure they weren't being followed. Dudley whined and complained ferociously when his mother waited for him next to the high school bus, but she ignored him, grabbed his fat hand, and heaved him home.

Harry, of course being gone for the past year, had no idea what had happened to make everyone so scared. He drove home silently in the car with scowling Uncle Vernon, and didn't attempt to engage him in any type of conversation. He grabbed his luggage by himself and lugged it into the large, expensive house on Privet Drive.

"Thanks for helping me!" he called over his shoulder as he stumbled upstairs to his room, nearly staggering under the great weight of his trunk, Firebolt, and Hedwig's cage. Leaving something on the first floor was not an option, for Harry didn't trust his things with the Dursleys. He wasn't quite as bitter and sullen as usual, for he knew that he would be leaving soon to complete his task.

"Hedwig, are you scared?" he asked her, sitting in his desk chair with Hedwig in her cage, sitting on the desk. She stared at him without any trace of emotion, and clicked her beak quietly. Harry looked at her without saying anything. Suddenly he heard a scream. He entered the kitchen to find Dudley pouting with his arms crossed over his chest. Aunt Petunia was clawing at her hair and shrieking loudly.

"What were you thinking?" she shouted. "Not telling me anything! No phone call, no anything! Dudley, it's time to start acting responsible! You're seventeen!" Dudley stamped his left food and clenched his hands in fists at his sides.

"Mum, I'm not a child!" he screamed right back, his eyes sending daggers at her. "I don't have to call you to say I'm going to Pier's anymore! Stop treating me like a baby!"

"I'm trying to keep you safe!" Aunt Petunia bellowed. Dudley stared at her, then huffed under his breath and stormed out of the room. Aunt Petunia stood still for a minute, and then turned to Uncle Vernon, who had been watching the whole thing with a furious expression.

"I was right Vernon, wasn't I? It's not safe for him to be out there after dark these days!" Uncle Vernon sputtered and turned beet red.

"Well, I suppose he can make his own decisions, er, right dear?" Aunt Petunia screeched.

"Vernon, you know what that-that _thing _is, and you know what it will do! He knows Dudley is _his _cousin," she snarled, jerking her head in Harry's direction.

"What are you talking about?" he asked eagerly. "Who is it? Who knows who I am?" Aunt Petunia shook her head and didn't answer. "Tell me!" he persisted. If this supposed person knew who Harry was, then he had to be part of the Wizarding World. Who could it be, though, that would scare so many people? He didn't have time to think anymore, for Uncle Vernon grabbed his shirt and dragged him upstairs.

"You will stay in your room and not leave," he said, poking his finger in Harry's chest so hard that Harry gasped.

"Leave what?" Harry glared at him. Uncle Vernon looked confused.

"You-your room," he stammered uncomfortable. "I just said that." Harry decided to have a little fun.

"I have a room?" he said, his eyes wide and innocent.

"Ye-yes boy, and you won't leave."

"Leave what?" Harry grinned. Uncle Vernon growled.

"You're room."

"Which room, the one I have or the one I don't?" Harry laughed, shuffling his feet.

"The one you have!"

"What about the one I don't?"

"You don't have a room that you 'don't'!" Uncle Vernon shouted, tearing large chunks of hair out of his mustache.

"Oh, that's good, because then I wouldn't be able to leave it." Uncle Vernon grabbed Harry by the collar and lifted him up roughly (which was hard because Harry had grown and was now over six feet tall). Harry just laughed at his uncle. He reached into his pocket, grabbed his wand, and leapt back, pointing it threateningly at Uncle Vernon.

"You stay away from me, old guy. I'm of age in a few weeks, but I got special permission to use magic this summer to prepare."

"Prepare for what?" Uncle Vernon growled.

"Oh, you didn't know? The man who murdered my parents and tried to kill me is alive and he's only alive because he created Horcruxes by killing people and dividing up his soul. I have to find and kill the Horcruxes."

Uncle Vernon simple threw a loathing look his way, and left. Harry laughed delightedly and flopped onto his bed. He hadn't had that much fun in a long time. And his uncle was so easy to manipulate and get riled up, it was too simple. When he was enjoying himself, he could almost forget about the dreaded task ahead. He soon fell asleep.

"Everyone! Get up and leave! Get up, we have to go!" Harry awoke sweating with a start. He winced as a bead of sweat dropped into his left eye and stung the cornea.

"Ow!" he crawled out of bed to find Dudley running around the hall screaming.

"It's here! It's here!"

"Who's here?" Harry yelled. Dudley let out a sob and kept wailing and flailing his arms around. Harry grabbed his cousin's arms and pinned them tightly together. "Dudley, who is here?" Dudley choked.

"The-the man who's been killing people. He's here!" He broke free of Harry's grasp and rain straight towards the stairs, where a bright green light was flashed. Dudley's body fell limp, and he fell to the floor. Harry stopped breathing. _Death Eaters. _At Privet Drive! He hastily slipped his hand in his pocket to get his wand, but in a flash, he remembered that it was on his nightstand. He turned around to retrieve it, but came face to face with a cloaked figure in a white mask. Harry whirled around but another man caught him and shoved him towards the first man. He grabbed his mask and tore it off. Harry shut his eyes.

"Let me guess, the infamous Lucius Malfoy, am I right?" He opened his eyes, squinting at a scowling Lucius. "Ahh, I _was _right. I love guessing games, don't you? Let's play another one, shall we?" he laughed, clapping his hands in delight. "I think you're here to bring my to my dear friend Tom, who will try to kill me, correct?" Lucius clutched Harry's shirt.

"Don't be a smart-ass, Potter," he snarled. "Very, very soon you will end up just like your dear cousin over there," he nodded towards Dudley's dead body. Harry felt anger welling up inside of him. Of course he didn't like Dudley, but he was family, and Harry certainly didn't want him dead. He felt magic scurrying to the tips of his fingers, and he felt a power that he had never felt before. Tiny flames of fire welled up behind his eyes and Lucius gasped as he saw Harry's eyes glow bright green with little specks of orange. Suddenly, light beamed from Harry's eyes and something exploded

Lupin burst into the room, followed by Tonks and Moody.

"Harry!" he cried, staring at the mangled body of his godson lying in a crumpled form on the floor. Several hooded figures lay unconscious near him, black robes wrinkled around their forms. Lupin grabbed Harry's body and flipped him over. His glasses were cracked and knocked askew, and his hair lay matted over his forehead, soaking in sweat. His eyes were closed. Lupin flicked his wand and muttered, 'Enervate." Nothing happened. He tried again, but with no success.

"No," he whispered. "What happened to you?" He gently picked him up in his arms, and placed a stone in Harry's hand. Lupin closed Harry's fingers over it, and placed his own hand over his godson's hand. He silently counted down to one, and closed his eyes, awaiting a swirl of color and light.

"Poppy, what happened? How did everything-explode?" Lupin sat in a rough, wooden chair next to the hospital bed. Harry still hadn't woken up, and everyone was growing more anxious every day. It had been a full week with no response except the steady breathing that confirmed he was still alive. Poppy sighed.

"I'm sorry, Remus, I can't find out what's wrong with him. I'm still running a few tests, but I have a theory." Lupin edged toward the edge of his chair. "I think Harry did this, using his natural magic."

"Natural magic?" Lupin breathed. "I had no idea he was that powerful! Natural magic is present in everyone, but precious few can access it in their lifetime! Only Merlin and the four Founders ever did. How on earth could Harry use it?" Madam Promfery blew a long bang off of her forehead, and placed her wand on the bedside table.

"Remus, I've been tending to Harry for six years. He's survived things he shouldn't have. He's very powerful. More powerful than anyone knows. Even himself." Suddenly, Harry stirred. His breathing grew extremely ragged, and he began to pant.

"Harry!" both Lupin and Madam Promfery lunged for him, and hovered over him like eagles. Harry's eyes flew open.

"No!" he screamed, and began to thrash wildly in the bed. The sheets crumpled up and fell off the bed.

Pain. All he could feel was immense pain. Harry groaned, but no sound escaped his lips. His insides felt empty, like everything had been drained from him. Suddenly, his dried lips separated, and he emitted a long, groan. He saw a fuzzy creature lingering over him, along with a short looking bat.

"Professor," he moaned. Lupin cradled him gently.

"Harry! Are you all right?" Harry closed his eyes.

"No."

"No?"

"Dudley's dead." Harry whispered. "They killed him." He reached for his wand, but it wasn't on his side table. "Where's my wand?" Lupin reached into his pocket and handed the long, thin piece of wood to Harry.

"Try it Harry, we'll see how strong you are. Maybe then we can find out what happened." Harry took it and tried to grip the wand firmly. He waved it in the air, pointing it at a stuffed bear lying on the floor, a reminiscent of an old patient. "Wingardium Leviosa!" Nothing happened. Harry frowned (though it hurt his cheeks) and attempted the spell again. Nothing.

"Professor?" Harry whispered. "What's wrong with me?" He gestured at the bear. "I can't even do Wingardium Leviosa now." Suddenly, the bear lifted into the air and hovered slightly. Harry fell silent. He pointed his index finger at the bear and muttered, "Wingardium Leviosa!" once more. The bear lifted up high, and stood still. Lupin gaped.

"She was right!" he said hoarsely. "Merlin, Harry, I had no idea!"

What are you talking about? Harry thought. Why can't I use my wand? It's never not worked before. Did it have something to do with the explosion?

"Professor, why- " Lupin cut him off with a disapproving frown. His eyebrows rose up high and he tutted under his breath.

"Please Harry, call me Remus. I'm not your teacher anymore." Harry hmmpped.

"_Re-_mus, does it really matter at a time like this?" he said in an annoyed tone.

"Yes, Harry, we're friends, not teacher and student. Although there are a few tricks I still have to show you. James in particular liked-"

"Stop!" Harry shouted. "Just stop! I'm being serious, why can't I use my wand?" Lupin looked up at the ceiling, and a small smile seemed to flicker across his face.

"Harry, do you know what natural magic is?" Harry shook his head. Lupin snapped his fingers, and a book appeared on the bed, opening up to page 4, 506. Harry grabbed the immensely heavy book and heaved it into his lap.

"What _is _this, Remus?" He turned to the cover, and laughed when he saw the title. _Hogwarts, A History._ "Oh boy, Hermione would be so happy. He turned back to the page in the book and began to read.

_Natural magic is present in every witch or wizard, but only a few in history have even been recorded as being able to use it at their own free will and control it within reason. One of these was Merlin, who first accessed it at age thirty-two. After that moment in history, he was never able to use his wand again for the natural magic had been released inside of him and with it had come rather unpleasant interactions with the core of his wand. It is almost as if a wand's core is released in your soul, and spells are amplified to enormous power. For more information on the Founders and their magical abilities with natural magic, turn to page 4, 528. _Harry shut the book.

"What does that have to do with me?" he asked, already having a slight suspicion about what it was all about. Lupin grinned devilishly.

"Harry, you accessed your natural magic the other night. It wasn't exactly under your control, but now it's been confirmed. You can no longer use you wand, or else disasterous results would happen." Harry looked at his wand, a disappointed look upon his face. It was his wand! They had been through everything together, and he had come to trust it like a brother or a friend. How could he just…stop using it? It was unethical.

"So I can never use it again?" he said mournfully. Lupin nodded, but for some reason, he looked excited.

"Harry, don't you realize what this means? Even Voldemort can't use his natural magic! This is a huge advantage, and we have to use it!" Harry nodded in understanding.

"I get it," he saw slowly, "but how do I learn how to use it?" Lupin's smile vanished, and he sputtered.

"Well-I…don't know, Harry. Dumbledore knew how to use it, but…" Harry turned away.

"Go away," he said flatly. Lupin turned him over again.

"Harry, we only have one choice!"

"And what is that?" Harry shot back, anger exploding in his chest.

"Harry, you _must _be taught how to use your magic, and there are teachers!"

"Who?" Harry sat up suddenly, and narrowed his eyes at the weary, old man.

"The Founders." Harry crossed his arms over his chest, and glared.

"Oh, so now you're making fun of me? Remus, they're dead!" The man grimaced and shrugged his shoulders, trying to look apologetic.

"Yeah, I know. But it doesn't matter."


	2. The Room of Requirement?

Harry tested the strength of his legs by promptly leaping out of bed and landing on his feet. His legs buckled under him and he collapsed to the floor, sticking his wrists out to prevent him from hurting himself. Mrs. Promfrey stuck her hands on her hips and pursed her lips in disapproval, reminding Harry of Mrs. Weasley.

"Now, really, Mr. Potter. Are you really that foolish? You are weak, very weak. You cannot simply go jumping onto the floor like that! Use your brain!" Harry attempted to look sorry, but failed miserably. Poppy flicked her wand and Harry found himself being pushed back into the hospital bed and tied down by invisible cords. "Now, _stay_ there!" Harry struggled against his bonds, but finally gave up (after having a short wheezing fit). He surrendered to the annoying household spell, but for a second, felt the ropes weaken. Harry shut his eyes and concentrated with every ounce of willpower he possessed. A strange, powerful feeling once again welled up behind his eyes.

'I guess the more powerful the magic I'm doing, the more of that odd feeling behind my eyes,' he reasoned. He pushed and pushed, and felt the bonds breaking string by string. He sensed that there was one small string holding everything together, and mentally pushed through it. It snapped, and he was free. Harry let out a shout of joy, and immediately regretted his mistake as Madam Promfrey came bustling out. She shrieked as she saw Harry half bent over on the bed, his fist in the air.

"Mr. Potter!" she screeched. "What are you doing? How did you sit up? Lie right back down there this instant." Harry wasn't in the mood for being reprimanded, and didn't want to have to go through all of that power before. He leapt up and thought _Petrificus Totalus! _and waved his hand at the stunned nurse, stiffening her body and only wincing slightly as she hit the floor with a sickening thud.

"Wow," he whispered. "This stuff is pretty cool."

Harry stumbled his way through the halls of Hogwarts before coming to the room of Requirement. He thought furiously, 'I need a place with a lot of books about natural magic." A green door appeared, and Harry pushed it open. It wasn't a library. It was another door. Harry tried Alohamora, but it didn't work.

"Open up," he said confidently. The door didn't budge. "Open up, please?" The door shrieked, and a tiny golden box appeared from nowhere. Mystified, Harry reached forward to touch the box. An invisible force grabbed his hand and began to tug ferociously. Harry gave a shout and tried to pull away, but the force was too strong. He could feel himself being sucked in, and he finally surrendered to the invisible, powerful force, thinking all the while, 'Oh god, help me." He closed his eyes and when he reopened them, found himself sitting in a plush, purple armchair. He looked around curiously to see various paintings of unrecognizable witches and wizards. A fireplace with bright flames sat in one wall with a beautiful statue of a Raven carved into the mantelpiece. Harry walked over to the statue and stroked its back tenderly. Somehow, and he didn't know how, it felt alive to him, though it was cool and hard to the touch.

"What are you doing?" Harry jumped around. A young woman stood there with a stern look upon her face. Her hair fell in long, dark waves down her back, and she wore strange looking robes that Harry thought he had once seen in an antique store in Diagon Alley. She looked familiar, but Harry couldn't quite place it.

"Who are you?" he asked her. The woman stared a him, then whipped out a wand and pointed it at Harry with such speed that he didn't have time to react. He was swund back into the chair and once again (to his annoyance) tied there with invisible bonds. He somehow didn't think he should try to escape. The woman pocketed her wand and strolled over to Harry in an elegant, proud way.

"I asked you first," she said. "Who are you, and what are you doing here?"

"Ha-Harry Potter," he finally said. The woman's expression didn't change.

"So?" she replied. "I find it hard to believe that you are so unintelligent that you cannot answer a simply question. Now, again, what are you doing here?" Harry gave her a stare. She reminded him so much of Dumbledore, it was almost as if they were related.

"I thought this was the Room of Requirement," Harry said truthfully. The woman growled.

"Next floor up, kid. Merlin, Godric would _always _come here by mistake! It's so irritating!" Harry gaped at her.

"Who would name their kid Godric?" he asked faintly. "It's condemning them to a life of ridicule and comparisons." The woman laughed.

"Who would he be compared to?" she giggled. "His mom made up that name. I believe he's the only one with it since before Merlin." Harry was appalled. Surely someone who spoke with a voice that suggested such cleverness was not _that _oblivious.

"Um, ma'am, what about Godric Gryffindor?"

"Young, Harry, Godric _is _Godric Gryffindor. One of my best friends, too," she added with a smile upon her face. "What, what's wrong?"

"Then, then who are you?" Harry choked.

"Why, I'm Rowena Ravenclaw."

"What?" Harry said, cupping his hand over his ear and straining. "What are you talking about? She's been dead for thousands of years!" The woman gave an impatient huff and looked at Harry curiously.

"Potter, I'm right here! I am not dead! Surely you are not that stupid to doubt your eyes!" Harry reached for his wand, and then remembered that it wasn't there and he didn't need it.

"Usually I _do_ doubt my eyes. In case you haven't noticed with _your _eyes, I have glasses and 20/470 vision. I'm like an old dog."

"Dogs aren't very smart," the woman commented dryly. "You don't look dumb, unless your brain is secretly as bad as your eyes. In case you're wondering, I did notice the glasses," she added with a wink. "I don't miss much."

This woman was a stranger, and yet, for some reason, Harry felt relaxed and at ease. He only felt this comfortable with Ron and Hermione, and even with them it took a few months to develop their special closeness. Harry lowered his hand, then hoping to catch the lady off guard, flicked it at her and muttered, "Veritos." She gasped and helf her hand to her heart, and slumped onto the floor. Harry caught her before she fell, and stared deeply into her eyes. They were a bright emerald green and the irises were rolled back into her head, the immediate effects of Veritos. Harry rather liked the nifty little spell. It was exactly like Veritaserum, except no rat blood was needed, something that Harry enjoyed, as he hated Potions.

"Who are you?" he demanded with force, though in a kind voice.

"Rowena Ravenclaw," came the dull reply.

"What year is this?"

"What is a year?" Harry shook his head in amazement, still not quite ready to believe the woman. She's been dead for three thousand years!

"Where are you and why are you here?"

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am here with Godric, Helga, and Salazar because we run the school." He dropped her onto the floor and placed a shaking head to his forehead. No, he wasn't hallucinating. This was real. But how could he go back in time without knowing or feeling anything? Harry heard a rustling behing him. Rowena was stirring. She opened her eyes, took in her surroundings in anger, and wordlessly stunned Harry who fell to the floor just as a tall man with black hair came sprinting into the room.


	3. I'm your Heir

Harry awoke to find himself on the floor of a room with plain white walls and nothing on them except a rusty, old-looking gold mirror. There was dusty smog covering it, suggesting that it had been there for some time.

"So who did he say he was?" Harry heard a deep, male voice through the door, and inched closer to it, squashing his ear to it in hopes of hearing more.

"I told you, he said he was Harry Potter. Pronounced it the same way _she_ does." Who's she? Harry wondered briefly, and then resumed listening to the couple.

"You don't think…"

"I do." The woman stated very firmly and clearly. "It's too much of a coincidence. We have no idea of knowing how much time passes out there while we're stuck in here. For all we know, we could be dead." Harry fell back in shock and felt the impact of his fall on his thin, bony wrists. He rubbed them frantically, trying to process what he had just heard. What were these things? Memories? Ghosts? He silently pushed open the door to find the lady hunched over the man, kissing him intently and wrapping her arms around his neck. The man gasped in obvious disgust and pushed her away so strongly that she fell onto the sofa, her hair covering her face. She very slowly and tentatively stood up and stared at him with disappointment.

"I thought you said you'd think about it," she trembled. "Seeing as though she's _not here _and never _will be _again" Harry cleared his through uncertainly to announce his presence.

"What are you doing out here?" the man snarled. "Usually a closed door means that your presence is _not _wanted or expected. Is that too complicated for you, little kid?"

"OK, look," Harry said angrily. Why were these people treating him like an insolent, unaware kid? His unkempt appearance never triggered that much of a why impression with anyone else before, so why now? "I'm not stupid. I've battled dark wizards and been subjected to worse pain than you can imagine. I'm _not _a kid, so stop treating me like one." The man huffed and marched over to Harry, who stood very still with his arms rigid at his sides. Harry wasn't expecting the blow that came to his jaw, the fist connecting sharply with the bone. He stepped back with uncertain balance, and toppled backwards to land painfully on his head. The woman rushed over and cradled his head.

"Godric, stop manhandling people!" she cried out. "I know you've had a hard time, but please, don't take it out on everyone else. Including me!" She focused her attention back to Harry and after a few well-chosen whispered words, Harry felt energetic and happy, more so than he had been in a long while.

"Who is that guy?" he demanded of the woman. She clasped her fingers together and shifted her weight anxiously from one foot to another.

"Godric," she said finally. "Potter, this is Godric Gryffindor." Harry clasped his fingers together nervously, staring in complete and total awe at the frustrated looking man.

"You're really Rowena Ravenclaw and Godric Gryffindor, aren't you?" he said faintly. The woman stared back at him.

"Yes," she said clearly. "I don't know why this is so hard for you to understand, but yes, we are." Harry walked forward until he was within inches of Godric. The deceased Founder was looking down upon him with a little irritation, and a slight bit of curiousity. Harry touched a single finger across his cheek.

"You're really him," he whispered.

"Why am I so important to you?" Godric asked finally, after looking deep into Harry's eyes and stepping back slightly. Harry blushed and looked down at his feet.

"No reason," he mumbled, turning away to look at Rowena, who was watching him mildly.

"Excuse me, but is there any way to get out of here?" he asked. "Someone's expecting me." Rowena grabbed his hand and steered him over to a painting of Merlin.

"Stroke his beard and close your eyes," she said matter-of-factly. Before Harry could say good-bye, she had pushed his finger against the rough, oil painting and he felt another spinning, nauseating sensation as he flew through the wall. He found himself, surprisingly, standing upright in the hall that he though was for the Room of Requirement. Harry began walking back towards the infirmary without telling his legs where to go. _Are they real? _He thought. _What are they, then? _Bracing himself, Harry reached the hospital wing door and pushed it open with trepidation. Madam Promfery was still lying on the floor under the influence under the full-body-bind spell. Her eyes were glinting with red sparks. Harry swallowed a huge lump in his throat, pointed a shaking finger at her chest, and whispered, "Finite Incantantem." The nurse sprang up and grabbed Harry's robes, pulling him close to her.

"Never even…did you think….stop to think……could have happened," she hissed into his ear with an icy tone. Harry drew back and inhaled long, deep breaths.

"I'm so sorry," he pleaded in desperation. "I got…. caught up with something." The nurse's eyes narrowed and her lips turned down slightly at the corners.

"You are to stay in bed for the rest of the week!" she hissed again. "And this time, I will put more than simple binding spells around your bed! And if you escape, which I highly doubt you will, you will be very sorry indeed." Madam Promfery stumbled backwards, almost tripping on the edge of her robes. "Get in bed. Now." Dumbledore would have never..." she muttered to herself as she walked slowly into her office. Heaving himself onto the bed, Harry quickly fell asleep.

"Are you sure? I just can't believe Harry would do something like that."

"Am I sure? _Am I sure? _AM I SURE? I was on the floor for over an hour! Anyone could have come and I would have been helpless, set on a silver platter! Never mind the fact that my bladder was full after about ten minutes and the hard floor is horrible for my back! I'm not twenty! And you ask me if I'm SURE?"

Harry almost closed his eyes again to avoid another confrontation with the angry nurse, but surrendered himself and crawled out of bed. Lupin spun around to face him with a disappointed expression on his face.

"Harry! Is it true?" Harry hunched his shoulders a bit.

"Yes. I did Petrificus Totalus on Madam Promfery. I'm sorry, Professor-"

"_Re-_mus."

"Yes, er, Remus. I just…needed to get out." Lupin turned away and stared out a window at the Whomping Willow."

"Harry, I can't talk to you right now, I've got some…er…business to take care of," he said grimly, gesturing at the violent tree. "But, promise me Harry, in a couple days when I'm feeling better, we'll have our talk." He started to walk away, but Harry stopped him.

"Remus, can't you just take the Wolfsbane Potion?" Remus turned towards Harry with a pained, stretched expression.

"Harry, Severus is gone now. There a precious few wizards who can make the potion. It's almost easier to transform every month than find someone who is willing to take it. So, I'll see you in a few days." With that, he left the room, leaving Harry feeling depressed and guilty.

Harry reached out towards the corridor wall, and grabbed the tiny, gold box than sprung out, spinning around and around.

"Back so soon?" Rowena appeared cheerfully, wearing a different pair of ancient looking robes in bright purple. Harry couldn't help but grin.

"I couldn't keep away," he admitted. Godric walked into the room, accompanied by a plump, friendly looking lady.

"Ooh, hello dear, what's your name?" she squealed in delight. Harry almost retched.

"Harry James Potter," he muttered. The woman gasped.

"_Potter_, potter?" Harry smiled in spite of himself.

"Yes. I'm from the Potter family." Godric looked up in surprise.

"So you're my heir, then!" he said softly. He began tracing the fabric's patterns on his armchair, staring at nothing in particular.


End file.
